


just for a night

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, bellamy is her TA, clarke is a college student, locked in a library overnight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3718552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Clarke seems to have finally cracked the code by which Bellamy Blake operates. He’s normally cold and scowling, hardly giving anyone, much less Clarke, the time of day; yet once tickled with three fingers trailing up his flank, he becomes a much more pliant, pleasant person. Clarke quite prefers him that way, if she’s honest.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>She discovers this as they lie together on the ground in Bellamy's library office. They’re both varying degrees of naked and out of breath.</em></p><p> </p><p>or, the one where they get locked in the library.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just for a night

Clarke seems to have finally cracked the code by which Bellamy Blake operates. He’s normally cold and scowling, hardly giving anyone, much less Clarke, the time of day; yet once tickled with three fingers trailing up his flank, he becomes a much more pliant, pleasant person. Clarke quite prefers him that way, if she’s honest.

She discovers this as they lie together on the ground in Bellamy's library office. They’re both varying degrees of naked and out of breath.

It'd all happened quite suddenly, really. She'd been in the library for hours, and it hadn't taken long to notice Bellamy at a table at the other corner of the floor. Why he wasn't in his office, she didn't know, but what did it matter? She was fine with the arrangement, especially as it allowed her a pleasant time sneaking looks all evening. It was what she’d done all semester in her Philosophy lectures anyway; Bellamy was probably used to it by now.

Clarke soon suspected maybe he was fed up with it too. After an hour of her lingering looks, he stood up in a huff and was by her side in an instant. Then he dragged her off to his office, pushed her up against the door, and said in a low voice, "So you want this?" And that was that.

Clarke thought she'd feel satisfied after, ready to move on. She normally does, when it comes to guys like Bellamy--broody, entitled, rather emotionless. They’re really only good for a fuck or two.

But it isn’t like that with Bellamy. She’s still as entranced as ever once they’re splayed out on the ground when all’s said and done.

He pretends like he’s not affected by her touch, but goose bumps erupt all over his skin wherever her fingers trail, and his breathing takes especially long to even out, still shallow and anticipatory with the potential of another round within grasp.

"I've been waiting for that all semester," Clarke murmurs, trailing her nail up his flank this time. He inhales sharply.

"If you're waiting for me to say the same, you'll be waiting a while."

"Ah, but that's the thing--you have yet to deny it." She grins cheekily at the hard glint in his blue eyes. "Good for you I’m a patient person."

 

*

 

"Oh, fucking hell,” Bellamy fumes. Clarke studies him silently. His fury seems a bit overdramatic given their recent discovery. Then again, realizing you’d been too busy fucking to hear the announcement that the library would be closed early due to storm warnings maybe wasn’t the way Bellamy had seen his night going. Sleeping in a library will certainly be a first for Clarke too.

“Well it's not _that_ horrible,” she tries to reason. “It's just a night. You had food in that office of yours, right?"

"Yeah, but that's--that's not the point!" He glares at her so fiercely she takes a step back.

"Then what _is_ the point?"

He exhales through his nose, nostrils flaring. He opens his mouth to respond, then frowns as if he thinks better of it. Except then he speaks up again.

"This wasn't meant to be anything more." He scowls when Clarke quirks her eyebrows in confusion, and he awkwardly gestures between them. "I just--I wanted to sleep with you and call it done, okay? I didn't want anything more."

And-- _oh_. So that's it. Clarke's chest feels empty.

"Oh, because one night keeping each other company automatically makes us connected for life," she says bitterly. Bellamy shakes his head like she's being unfair, but she forges on. "You know, I ignored what people said about you being an asshole, but maybe they were right all along. I'm just a stupid girl who got fucked by her TA and then tossed out without another thought."

She clenches her hands into fists at her side, and realizes that he’s doing the same. That makes her even angrier.

"It's not like that," he says in a low voice. But she doesn't know what it _is_ like. And it’s not like he’s offering much of an explanation.

"Save it," she says carelessly. And, even though she knows it’s not true, she adds, "I'll--I'll see you around, or whatever."

 

*

 

It's silly, really. Three days a week, four weeks a month, Clarke went to her Intro to Philosophy lecture and lusted after the TA, _ached_ for him to even look her way. She wasn't particularly interested in the course, but she was certainly interested in him. He resolutely ignored everyone in class, only listening to the prof when he asked Bellamy to pass things out or take over half a lecture so he could leave early. Those were Clarke's favorite days. Bellamy would call on students more than Professor Jaha, opting for more of a discussion setting than a lecture. Those were the times Clarke could jump in and say something and bask in the few seconds his blue eyes settled on her. Half the time she just said the first random shit that came to mind, raising her hand before even preparing an answer; often she couldn’t even remember what she'd said once the moment passed. But it was worth it, just to see his lips quirk up before calling on the next student.

It was true that most of it was simply the desire to sleep with him because of how attractive he was sitting there straight in her line of vision three days a week. But thinking back on it, Clarke realizes it was more than that. He made the course worth it, in her mind. She didn’t particularly love Philosophy, but even inadvertently, Bellamy had heightened her interest in it, at least enough that she thinks she’ll be walking away with an A for the course.

That’s something special, that he could get her interested in something she doesn’t even care about. All the more, she wishes for more time with him, in any capacity. But maybe, preferably in discussion. Just talking. The sex was amazing, but Clarke wonders if having something more with Bellamy Blake might be even better.

For a moment, earlier, she might’ve ventured a guess that he wouldn’t be so opposed to such a thing.

 

*

 

He finds her eventually. It probably hasn't even been that long, but sitting alone in a quiet library makes time stretch like nothing else.

“Oh. Jesus. You scared me," she says, a hand flying to her heart when she notices him lurking in the shadows. He nears cautiously.

"Sorry," he says. He stands there in front of her like he doesn't know what to do with himself. "Earlier, too, like. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

“Bit too late for that."

He frowns. "Sorry, but you're to blame too. As far as I ever saw, that's all you wanted. A quick fuck just to say you've done it. You fucked your TA. Good on you."

"You're not technically my TA anymore," she says petulantly. She scowls at her lap. "I already handed in my final. You can pass it along to Jaha if you think you can't give a fair grade. Or, or fail me for all I care. I don't give a shit about Philosophy anyway."

"That's not true," he says with confidence. It makes Clarke look up.

"Don't act like you know me."

He rolls his eyes. "I know _something_ about you. I read all your essays the past four months. And--yeah, maybe you're just smart. But there's something more there, too. You actually _tried_ , more than anyone else in the class. You don't try if you don't give a shit about the content."

"Well I only gave a shit because of you, and look where that got me," she mutters under her breath. Unfortunately, he still hears.

"What do you mean?"

"What do _you_ mean ‘what do you mean’?" She sighs exasperatedly. "Don't you ever have it when you meet someone and they're so _good_ at what they do that it inspires you to do better? It makes you interested in it and them even though you really don't give a shit? And when you meet someone who's so confident and well-versed and well-spoken in their area--so much so that it gets you hot every time you see them?"

Bellamy stares at her in silence. A wave of embarrassment washes over her.

"Maybe not. Well. That was me, in your class. I think--" She pauses, rolls her eyes at her own stupidity. "I really admire you. Well. Admir _ed_. Maybe?"

"That's...nice of you," he says softly. He holds the sides of his thighs, unsure what to do with his hands, and his breath exhales with a whoosh. "I guess I...I was wrong, right? Then?"

Clarke shrugs. "I mean, I did want to just sleep with you too. But not just so I could say I did. That's fucked up. Who'd do that?"

"Plenty of girls," Bellamy says with a shrug. He looks around and finds--of course--nothing. "Right. Well. Sorry again." He finally comes to join her on the couch and angles himself toward her. Clarke remains curled up in the corner. "Can we start over then?"

"I don’t know. You tell me."

He growls frustratedly. "All I know is this will be the longest night of my life if you make me sit downstairs alone all night. And you're not half-bad company."

" _Half-bad_. Gee, thanks a lot."

"Welcome." He smirks at her.

Clarke hasn’t forgiven him; he still is kind of an asshole. But she can’t help but smile back. She thinks she’ll see where the night takes them, and go from there.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://lovelikethsun.tumblr.com). please send in prompts!


End file.
